Tweek's Prelude in Tranquility
by NightingaleLost
Summary: Tweek never stopped surprising him.


Yeah. I'm back. This one was just _dying_ to come out, and I felt a special affinity for this one because I actually used to play, but I played the bass, not the cello. Although I would have liked to learn too. Uh, the song that Tweek's playing (at least in my head) is Bach's 'Prelude in G', which is an amazing song in itself that I hope to be able to play one day. Don't know where the title came from, yeah, I know, it's crappy, but I'm not good at titles.

**Disclaimer: I realized I hadn't been putting this in here, so I want to remedy that right now. Yeah, I do _not_ own South Park. Otherwise, you guys would all be my co-writers. Matt and Trey own this and they do an amazing job already.**

I wanted to dedicate this one to my orchestra teacher, Mrs. Gough, who sadly passed away last year. May her soul rest in peace and her love live on in our music.

* * *

**Tweek's Prelude in Tranquility**

He lit up the cigarette, turning the end cherry-red as he took a deep drag on it. Sighing impatiently, he checked his watch, looking up to watch the the tiny snow flurries make their way down to disappear among the blanket of snow underneath.

He should have been here by now.

He tapped his foot against the snow, making no sound as he tried to wait. Taking another drag of his cig, he blew out a smoke ring, partly smoke from and partly his breath freezing as he stood in the cold. He growled, flicking his cigarette into the snow. It died with a tiny '_hiss_'.

This was taking too long.

Lifting himself up from the wall he was leaning on, he walked across the small courtyard into the confines of the school, the cold dying as he stepped into the half-warmth of the building. Not many people were here. A burst of familiar laughter drew his attention ahead. A group approached him, clearly intent on getting out of the depressing edifice. One of them took notice of him.

"Hey Craig, what's up?" Stan asked, a smile on his face. Well, wasn't _he_ happy? Craig shrugged.

"Leave him alone, man." Cartman snorted. "He's probably off to visit his faggy boyfriend."

Craig flipped him off without even looking. Kyle and Kenny laughed. Stan ignored them all, keeping his attention on the silent boy.

"We're gonna visit GameStop later; the new Assassin's Creed game just came out. Wanna come?"

Ah, Stan. He was a nice guy. Kyle and him always looked out for others. Craig shook his head, breaking his self-imposed silence.

"Have to work. You seen Tweek?"

Cartman laughed. "See! Told ya he was gonna see his gay _looover_."

Craig turned his eyes on the fat boy, eyes cold and blank but still glaring. Then his hand came up, slowly forming his famous gesture. Holding it for a while, he turned back to Stan, who was glaring at Cartman.

"Have you seen Tweek?"

Stan nodded. "Yeah, I saw him walking over by the music building. It wasn't that long ago, actually."

Craig nodded his thanks, walking past them. He heard them resume their conversation as they walked out of the school, their voices fading. His thoughts turned to his twitchy blonde friend. What was he doing near the music building? As far as Craig knew, he didn't play any instrument. A picture flashed in his mind of the jittery boy trying to even touch a piano without freaking out over it going to eat him or something, and he chuckled. Poor little Tweekers. He just couldn't calm down for any more than three seconds.

He checked his watch again and the chuckles died in his throat. Damn, if they waited any longer, they'd be late. Craig worked at the coffee shop Tweek's father owned and he'd rather not be late.

It was funny, because Craig had never really paid attention to Tweek before he took the job. Sure, they'd had that fight in the third grade, but they'd never talked or anything. Tweek was too nervous to get close to people and Craig didn't care for people at all.

As his parents didn't provide for his smoking habit, or pretty much anything else, Craig had been on the search for a job, after being fired from his last one for giving his boss the middle finger. If he planned to move out of his parent's house as soon as possible, he needed to save money. And he couldn't do that if he didn't have a job. Then Tweek had approached him one day, that ever-present thermos in his hands, voice shaking as he asked Craig if he wanted a job in his father's coffee shop. They were low on help after one had quit, and another had taken maternity leave, which left Tweek pretty stressed to cover almost three straight shifts. Craig snorted. As if the kid needed any _more_ stress on him.

Craig hadn't known how Tweek had known he needed a job, nor had he cared. He accepted the offer on the spot. He hated going home, so he worked almost six hours straight; sharing his shift with Tweek.

Their days pretty much ran on a schedule now. School ended at two, and Craig would wait for Tweek outside, where they would walk to the coffee shop. Then at eight, Craig would leave. They did this every day, except Sundays, which were Craig's day off.

And somewhere in the process, Craig learned more about the creature called 'Tweek'. He ran on almost no sleep and enormously obscene amounts of coffee, which Craig was sure was going to shoot Tweek's liver to hell faster than his own cigarettes would kill his lungs. He didn't care for his parents, and his parents didn't care for him, just like Craig. And once you past the random screams, constant panic attacks and horrible paranoia of AIDS, underwear-stealing gnomes, white slavery, scary movies, zombies, the CIA, KGB, FBI, government conspiracies and having no coffee for anymore than ten minutes, Tweek was actually a pretty cool guy.

For one, he was mad smart. The kid's mind worked at a million miles a minute, constantly bouncing ideas around in that paranoid mind of his. He was a whiz at math, which could have come from his near-obsession of numbers (thanks to the nightly visits of the underwear gnomes), and he wasn't a bad tutor, as Craig had found out.

Another thing that had surprised Craig was just how _reliable_ that twittery blonde was. He practically ran that coffee shop himself. Ever since the two other employees had left, he strove to keep the coffee shop going all by himself. Sure, he spilled coffee every day when he got scared or surprised, (which was often) and Craig ended up being the one to clean it up while Tweek frantically apologized, but Tweek knew every regular customer's name by heart, along with what they usually ordered and exactly how they liked it. He attended almost everyone himself, scurried to make sure the tables were spotless, was almost religious in how he made the coffee. Craig liked to watch him, how his shivers calmed down and he had a look of utmost concentration on his face while he poured the steaming liquid into mugs, mixed it with milk, sugar, whatever the situation demanded. It was as if he _worshiped_ the power of coffee.

His father just liked the fact he didn't have to work as much, the lazy-ass bastard. Craig didn't like Tweek's parents at all. They had a great son, who got near-perfect grades, who loved the coffee shop more than anything, and they completely ignored him as he was, shooting him pitying looks whenever he got a panic attack. They never stopped to see him for who he really was. Craig as pretty certain that they thought Tweek was retarded or insane because of his screaming paranoia. Which he wasn't.

Craig sighed. It wasn't like him and his family were any better. Glancing at his watch again, he strode deeper into the halls, coming out to a small courtyard. Walking across the snow-covered grass.

At least he could say that Tweek had a friend now. Himself. He liked the perpetually hyped-up coffee addict. He always tried so hard to please, and the blonde had grown on the silent loner. Yeah, their conversations didn't add too much besides a couple of sentences a day between them, but Tweek seemed to like it and Craig was never one for words anyway.

He stepped into another building, this one having a sign on its green doors. '_Music Building, E_'. Hopefully, Tweek really was here and they could get going to work. Craig hated having to stay at school any longer than he had to. As the doors closed behind him, a fat middle-aged woman stepped out of a room, humming softly. Craig approached her.

"Have you seen a blonde guy anywhere here? Jittery, hair really messed up?"

A smile spread on the woman's face. "You mean little Tweek?"

Craig nodded.

"Oh, yeah, he's just inside. You his friend?"

Again, Craig nodded. The woman beamed. "That's wonderful; no wonder he's been so happy these past few months! He's just so shy sometimes...it's hard for him to make friends." Her grin grew wider. "But he's so talented! I keep on telling him to join my class, but he never listens!!" She bustled past him. "Tell him to lock up when he's done, okay?"

Then she was gone. Craig frowned after her. Huh? Talented? Tweek? In what? Craig had never heard Tweek even mention the music building or anything in it, and he was a pretty good listener even though he looked apathetic and uncaring. He opened the door, peeking inside. His eyes widened.

Tweek was just settling down in a chair, his side to Craig, a large instrument between his legs. It was big, the long, slender neck coming up to Tweek's eyes, shiny, polished, and extremely expensive-looking. Craig could only imagine how much that would cost if Tweek dropped and broke it. Shaking slightly, Tweek held a long bow in his hand, dragging the hairs on a little brown square of something that looked almost like amber. Craig felt the stirrings of panic as Tweek finished, resting the bow lightly on the instrument, a cello, he remembered. This was just _screaming_ for something to go very wrong right now. This was praying for a disaster to happen. But as he watched, debating whether or not to interfere, something miraculous happened instead.

Tweek took a deep breath, and then he was still.

Completely still. Not his usual 'he's-trying-to-be-still-but-still-twitching' kind of still, but absolutely still, like Craig when he stared into the distance. And it amazed the raven-haired boy so much he stayed where he was, his non-interference earning him another miracle.

Tweek took another deep breath, and started to play.

And it was so beautiful.

It was smooth, soft yet powerful, lyrically moving like a river of notes that fluttered just too far away to touch. The cello's voice was deep yet mellow, like the caress of a summer breeze, giving voice to an unknown feeling of unbearable pleading, a prayer to an unknown deity. Craig could see Tweek's eyes were closed as he moved back and forth, his arm guiding the bow to make more of those gorgeous sounds. He played so many notes on one stroke it was as if it really _was_ a river, his fingers moving skillfully over the strings. Craig found himself inching inside, not wanting to disturb yet pulled forward at the same time by an immovable force. Tweek played harder, faster, the music so achingly sweet and wanting, then after a wonderful moment of music, its crescendo came, so high and magnificent. He slowed down, Craig coming still closer, then the bow made one final slow stroke, the last note lingering regretfully in the air.

"That was beautiful."

Tweek shrieked, dropping the bow but thankfully keeping a firm grip on the cello. He shot up, whirling around with the cello held in front of him as if it would defend him from whatever unknown assailant was next to him. He blanched when he saw Craig, the twitching starting again.

"C-Craig! W-what -_ngn_- what're you d-doing here?!?"

Craig pointed at his watch. Tweek's eyes widened.

"Oh Jesus, we're late! Oh, sweet -_erk_- lord, I'm going to get fired, and then I-I won't -_agh_- be able to find a job then -_erk_-I'll be out in t-the streets, -_ngh_- and I'll be a _hobo_, then I'll h-have to sell myself into -_hrk_- slavery t-t-to feed myself and I'll get _r-r-raped_ by some dirty -_rgh- _p-perverted old man!! ARGH!" He dropped the cello, his hands going up to yank violently at his hair. "NOOOOOOO!!!! I DON'T WANT TO GET RAPED!!!! OH, GOD, THE _PRESSUUUUUURE_!!!!"

Craig darted forward before the cello hit the ground, catching it and setting it gently on the ground. He sighed inwardly, his hands going up to tangle with Tweek's gripping fingers.

"What have I told you about the hair?"

He sighed, this time out loud, as he carefully pried the blonde's fingers from his mane of butter-yellow hair, holding them tight in one hand to make sure they wouldn't go back. Tweek stared up at him, quivering. To the blonde, Craig seemed incredibly angry, and he was certain he was going to get yelled at. Craig had told him multiple times before to not yank at his hair. However, the next words killed that possibility.

"Don't worry about being fired."

"...h-huh?"

Craig rolled his eyes. "You can't get fired from the place you own. And you pretty much own it. So don't worry about being sold or whatever. It's not going to happen."

Tweek stared. That was the longest speech he had ever heard Craig say. Craig let go of Tweek, glancing down at the cello.

"I didn't know you played."

"Oh! Uh, I-I, um, yeah. I-I do." Tweek finished lamely. Craig nodded absently, his eyes far away.

"It was beautiful."

Tweek blushed. "R-really? You're not gonna call it -_ngh-_ gay, or anything?"

Craig shook his head, and Tweek smiled, one of those bright smiles he never showed anywhere except around coffee.

"Thanks. It helps me -_erk-_ calm down s-sometimes."

This time it was Craig who smiled, a calm smile of content that showed he really was telling the truth when he said it was beautiful. Tweek almost shrieked in shock. He had never seen Craig smile. He didn't think it was possible. Craig had only ever shown anger or irritation around people, and though he was pretty tolerant around Tweek, the smaller boy had never seen anything remotely close to a smile cross his face.

"Good. It's good you have something to help calm you down."

Craig's eyes flickered over to where a rack stood next to the wall, the cello's companions stored there. He bent down, picking up the slightly heavy cello easily, putting it on the rack along with its brothers. He looked back at Tweek.

"Come on. We're still late."

Tweek snapped to awareness, rushing forward to put away the bow and rosin (the amber block), and picking up his thermos from where it rested on the floor. He trotted next to Craig as they made their way outside, the snow still falling softly, encasing them in their own little silent empty bubble. As they left the school premises, Craig reached over absently, patting Tweek's head gently. Tweek jumped, stifling a startled scream, looking up at his only friend. Craig looked down at him.

"I liked hearing you play. It made me calm too."

Tweek smiled again. It was nice he could help Craig out in something. Ever since the raven-haired boy had taken the job working with him, he had found out that Craig wasn't as cold as he seemed. Yeah, he almost never spoke, but he never judged Tweek or called him names because of his twitching. He put up with his paranoia and coffee addiction every day without complaint and Tweek was so very grateful for that. It made him feel as if he could actually have a friend without the debilitating stress of trying to appear normal. And it as good Craig could be calm too. He always looked so blankly aggravated whenever he was at school.

"Could you play again for me sometime?"

Tweek beamed, Craig's hand still soft on his head. It felt nice.

"Okay."

And Craig gave him another soft smile.


End file.
